


Cream and Sugar

by whichstiel



Series: Forever Crown [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Coffee, Cream, F/F, Fairies, getting drunk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-27
Updated: 2016-09-27
Packaged: 2018-08-18 04:50:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,899
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8149670
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whichstiel/pseuds/whichstiel
Summary: Charlie and Gilda stop to eat at a cafe. Gilda gets drunk.A time stamp taking place directly after the events of the Forever Crown.





	

Dorothy's motorcycle ate away the miles, its loud snarl and the rushing wind made conversation impossible. _Thank any and all eldritch gods for small blessings_ , Charlie thought as she steered the motorcycle through the gentle hills of southern Michigan. Gilda's arms were wrapped tightly around her despite the slim leather bag of weaponry Charlie slung along her back. The fairy's body radiated summer warmth. Her forehead rested against Charlie’s shoulder.

And every inch of Charlie wanted to squirm in mortification. She had a feeling Gilda sensed the tension in her body. She’d already tried to talk to Charlie, a delicate crease between her brows, when they’d stopped for gas a half hour ago. Charlie had looked at her, told Gilda she had to pee, and fled into the disgusting but otherwise blessedly private gas station bathroom. Once closed in a stall, Charlie grimaced and dropped her head to her knees. Back in her hotel room she’d snuggled into Gilda’s side like a - like a damn bunny. Her emotions had been so wobbly post-near-death experience - that was all. What the hell was she doing cozying up to a fairy? Old Charlie - good Charlie as she’d come to think of her younger self - had happily made out with a fairy. It had felt like a badge of honor back then. A slice of magic to liven up the otherwise banquet of blah or horror that was her life. But after her time in Oz… Well, Gilda had saved her life but that didn’t negate the danger that tended to go hand in hand with a fairy’s immense power. Gilda had resurrected her, after all. Accidentally.

Still, there’s the road ahead of them to lose herself in. Charlie roared out of Handel like the torment was still alive and prowling the woods of the town. Nonsense, she knew, but pouring Dorothy’s motorcycle into the shallow hills of southern Michigan felt like balm on her deeply scored soul. The back roads between Detroit and Ann Arbor were mainly lined with oddly isolated residential blocks and bucolic farmsteads. All around trees bloomed with the pinks and greens of spring and the air smelled freshly scrubbed from a light rain shower earlier in the day. She should be feeling glorious instead of one step away from panic and breakdown. Her stomach twisted. No, she realized. Her stomach growled.

Up ahead she saw the telltale water tower that marked small midwest towns peeking up over the tree line. She slowed once they were in town and scanned for a restaurant, a diner, literally anywhere that wasn’t a gas station convenience store. The little town center was hardly bigger than a five block strip of store fronts, flanked on all sides by older Victorian houses with sagging wrap around porches. Near the end of the street sat a promising looking cafe. Charlie pulled into an empty parking space and killed the engine.

Gilda slowly released Charlie’s waist and sat back. “What are we…?”

Charlie laughed awkwardly, at absolutely nothing. “Human being here, gotta eat. And, like, real food. Not hospital food or a Twinkie.”

Charlie waited for Gilda to dismount the motorcycle and then swung her leg over as well. She wiggled her hips as her joints popped back into place and glanced at her companion. Gilda stood on the curb, her hand settled over her stomach and head cocked to one side. She frowned. “I could eat as well, I think.”

They were greeted by a friendly and extremely young waitress who sat them at a table by the window overlooking the main street. Cars passed with regular frequency but they had the cafe all to themselves. It was an odd time of day, Charlie figured, but she found the more intimate setting a little discomfiting. She coached Gilda through restaurant ordering 101 but now that was done, silence drifted across the table.

Charlie swiped a finger through the pooling condensation near the base of her water glass and squiggled designs on the table while Gilda sat, regal and quiet, in the opposite chair.

“So queen of the fey, huh?”

Gilda looked startled for a moment and then abashed. “The Forever Crown would only make me leader of the Hollow Forest. And only for a short time, of course.”

Charlie snorted. “Right. A thousand years. Blink and you’ll miss it.” She smiled to soften her words and Gilda returned the gesture. “So you can eat our food, then?”

Gilda looked puzzled. “Of course I eat food.”

Charlie felt her ears burn. “Yeah, but I mean you can eat human food. On earth. It’s not against some fairy law or anything?”

“You are thinking perhaps of the Aos Si?” Gilda took a considering sip of water. “But even they can take what they want on earth. It’s humans who need to be wary of fey foods. Food is often used by various fey realms to bind those they wish to possess. Not my people, of course,” Gilda held up her hands earnestly. “But others.”

The waitress returned and flipped over their coffee mugs, filling each cup. She set a metal pitcher of cream on the tabletop and cocked a finger at a bowl stuffed with sugar packets. “Order’s about up,” she told them and Charlie nodded her thanks.

Gilda carefully lifted her mug and sniffed its contents. Her nose wrinkled.

“It’s coffee,” Charlie said. “It gives you energy. It’s good!” She sniffed at her own mug. “Mmm,” she said and then flinched. God. It sounded like she was talking to a kid. “Okay, here’s how I like it.” She took the pitcher of cream and poured a generous amount into her mug until the liquid inside nearly skirted the lip. Then she grabbed three sugar packets, lining them up in her hand and flicking the sugar into alignment. She tore open the three packets in one move and dumped them all into her coffee. Then she grabbed her spoon and carefully swirled it around until the mixture was uniformly pale. She took a sip and closed her eyes. Yes, she’d needed coffee.

Opening her eyes, she saw that Gilda had been copying her movements, pouring cream and an excessive amount of sugar into her own cup. She took a sip and her brows rose. “It’s good,” she said.

“You look surprised,” laughed Charlie.

“I wasn’t sure what to expect. The, ah, hospital food was…”

“Inhospitable?” guessed Charlie.

“Dry.”

Charlie took another sip of her coffee and Gilda mirrored her movements. Her eyes were kind, lips drawn up into a wobbly half smile. Sunlight filtered in through the pane and tangled in her hair. Charlie sighed despite herself. “Curse you, Tolkien,” she muttered.

“What did you say?”

“Nothing. So I guess you’re wondering where we’re going?” At Gilda’s nod she continued. “Heading to Kansas to see, ah, some friends. If they’re there. They should be but ah, anyway. We might be able to use some of their equipment or books to find your doorway a little faster. Otherwise we’d just be driving around aimlessly.”

Gilda looked at her hands clasped around her mug. “I wouldn’t necessarily mind that,” she said softly.

Charlie squirmed a little. “Well, this will get you home faster.” They continued to drink their coffee in the quiet cafe until their food arrived. Charlie kept her mouth conveniently and consistently full and tumbled the past several days through her mind.

 _It’s the oldest story in the book_ , she thought. _Girl resurrects girl, life-threatening events ensue, all culminating in something as mild as a coffee date. Er, not that this was a date._ Charlie resolved to keep Dorothy’s warnings about fairies foremost in her mind and for frak’s sake she needed to stop looking at Gilda’s lips or the way her graceful fingers stroked the sides of her mug as she sipped.

She was barely back in the world herself, raw and uncomfortable in her own resurrected skin. The torment had dragged so much seething emotion from her. She could close her eyes and feel herself splitting apart much as she had done in Oz. It was too much.

Charlie squared her shoulders. _We’ll head to the bunker, do a little research. Then I’ll pack her off back to her end of the multiverse. And try to figure out what to do with a second life._

“This is very, very, very good,” Gilda said. She tipped the last of the cream into her coffee and shredded four more sugar packets, releasing their contents into her cup. Her gaze met Charlie’s. “Very good.” She stabbed the table with her finger.

“Yeah, well, sugar makes everything better, right? Listen, I think that coffee’s more cream than anything. We can get your cup-”

“I like it.” For a moment Gilda’s slurp filled the cafe. Slurp. Sluuuuurp.

“Great.” Charlie frowned.

Gilda took another big pull of coffee and then hiccoughed.

“You’re ssshho pretty.”

Okay, that was definitely a slur.

Gilda sighed. “I never learned how to handle a sword. Wouldn’t know what to do if I had one in front of me.” She leaned forward as though she were about to impart a great secret. “Touched King Arthur’s sword once but he said…he said that was inappropriate.” Her head drooped though color remained high in her cheeks. “Only did it that one time.”

Charlie stared at the fairy. And stared. And then, something in the back of her mind clicked. She looked at Gilda’s coffee cup - really more cream than anything. Fairy lore rushed back.

“You’re drinking cream.”

“Yesh.”

"You, a fairy, are drinking cream.” She shook her head. Charlie had just brought Gilda to the fairy equivalent of a bar.

“Shit, Gilda.”

“Yesh.”

“You’re a real lightweight, you know?”

Gilda rested her cheek on her hand and leaned across the table. “The density of fey is 125% greater than humans.” She poked Charlie in the shoulder. “You’re a lightweight.” She broke into giggles which turned, rather endearingly, into snorts.

“Oh my god,” Charlie couldn’t help the smile that crept onto her face. “You’re drunk.”

“M’not.” Gilda finished off her cup and settled her gaze on Charlie’s own mug.

Charlie dragged her cup closer to her and took a drink. “I think I need to cut you off?”

“Pbbbbt.”

The waitress chose that moment to return, glancing at Gilda’s lolling head curiously. “Um. Check, please?” Charlie squeaked.

She paid for breakfast and stood up. Gilda remained in her seat, blinking up at Charlie who sighed and held out her hand. Gilda took it, stood, and swayed.  
“Okay,” Charlie said. “Let’s get you somewhere to sleep this off.” She managed to guide the fairy out of the cafe and down the sidewalk to a small city park. Gilda half pulled Charlie towards the center of the park and lay under a spreading oak, her curls tumbling over the grass.

“Thish is nice.” Her hand still held Charlie’s and she tugged, hard. Charlie stumbled to her knees before managing to pull herself into a sitting position. She tried to tug her hand free but the fairy’s grip was like steel. Gilda stroked a thumb over Charlie’s fingers as she sighed and closed her eyes.

Gradually, something inside of Charlie began to uncoil as the sun warmed her shoulders through the tree’s early canopy. She closed her eyes and allowed herself to slump for a moment. “Yeah,” she finally allowed. “It is.”

**Author's Note:**

> This story is a bridge between The Forever Crown and its not yet written sequel, Quest and the Maiden.
> 
> Mainly, I just think it's funny that a fairy can get drunk at a cafe. 
> 
> Hey! Talk to me on Tumblr or Twitter. @whichstiel. :D


End file.
